Listening to the great Brendel discussing his teacher Edwin Fischer's faithful and true renderings of the great classics and deploring all the fioriture (ornamentations, embellishments) and free 'improvements' of past generations of pianists, I thought I was listening to the perfect translator. Admittedly, there is no absolute fidelity, all Brendel's interpretations are stamped with his own genius (pardon, ideology), there is no definitive translation any more than there is definitive musical interpretation, but what a difference between this and the cultural relativism that puts (lately) Raymond Chandler on the same level as Shakespeare.